Listen, guys. You want to talk about feelings, and about how Heather and I have them? I don’t watch romantic comedies, I don’t do Valentine’s day, I don’t let anyone else pay for my dinner. But I saw Wall-E for the first time tonight and legit, straight-up cried. Oh my goodness. It’s rare that a movie is good enough to overpower my academic urge to write papers about all the gender roles in the film instead of just enjoying it, but I barely even cared about the range of ways in which Wall-E and Eve’s relationship simultaneously reinforced and contradicted normative gender roles, and how the portrayal of the Axiom passengers was a testament to current views on Americans and fat people. Barely at all!
As someone who is in fact in love with a robot (true story; my boyfriend eats circuits for breakfast), I am touched by the accuracy and sensitivity with which that particular topic is depicted, and I’m glad it’s finally getting some screen time. Man, holding hands is ten times more adorable when you only have makeshift hands to do it with. I don’t know how the filmmakers did it, but they managed to produce the same reaction as Anna’s departure episode of the OC – where Adam Brody chases that girl all the way to the airport and through the gate just to make sad faces and beg her not to move to Pittsburgh and be all “Who’s going to do stock indie stuff with me and match my outfits accidentally?”, and then you as the viewer are left wondering “Oh goodness, do people actually do that? Is anyone ever going to do that for me? No? Will anyone ever love me?” Somehow, after watching Wall-E, my only goal in life was to have a robot with tiny mechanical claws but a big heart hold an umbrella over me in the rain, because then I would know that I was truly loved. At the end, when you’re not sure whether Wall-E is dead or not but Eve, who started out totally heartless, is trying to hold his hand and practically weeping out of her LED eyes, I for serious cried. Guys, I don’t even know if I cried at Hotel Rwanda. This shit is serious.
One last thing before I go – I would like to submit that, in contrast to the moviegasm of cleverness and cuteness that is Wall-E, Ghostrider is just an embarrassment. It’s playing right now, and I don’t know which scene was more ridiculous: the part where Nicholas Cage is a flaming leather-jacket-clad skeleton and growls “You’re going down” at the son of the Devil, or the part where Eva Mendes is spilling out of the top of a little black dress and when she desperately asks a passing man “You think I’m pretty, right?” he just shrugs. I am all out of ideas on this one.